


No Fruit in Jersey (or, There's Nothing Fucking Tropical About East Orange)

by space



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-04
Updated: 2011-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-17 00:16:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space/pseuds/space
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny really likes fruit. Steve really likes Danny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Fruit in Jersey (or, There's Nothing Fucking Tropical About East Orange)

**Author's Note:**

> So this is what happens when I'm visiting family out-of-town and using foreign shampoo.

"Wow...mmph."

"I highly suggest you swallow before you continue that thought."

Danny swallows the large bite of pineapple and pops another before starting again, mouth once again comically full. "You guys really do have the best fruit, like ever. No way we can get anything this fresh, this good, back home."

Steve shovels a respectable bite of his own meal, swallowing before answering. "Island living, brah."

"Yeah, I guess there had to be a perk in there somewhere, huh?" He's at least accommodating enough to throw in a wink after saying it.

Steve just tips his head back and gives Danny a placating smile, before returning to his steak and eggs.

Other than the moans and slurps of Danny making love to his mango across the table, the partners fall into a rare silence.

Well, for Danny, it's rare.

And it doesn't last long. "What's with the face?"

"What face?"

"That face. The one where you look like someone kicked a puppy."

"I don't..." The usual retort prepares to fall from his lips, but at the last moment, Steve pulls it back. He stares at a chunk of meat on his plate, stabs it, but doesn't bring the fork to his mouth. "Would you go back?"

"What? To Jersey?"

"Yeah."

"Uh, yeah, in a heartbeat. Dude, where have you been the past six months? I miss Sal's steaks and burgers... seriously, that man's burgers are to kill for. Would totally test my forensic skill to cover that shit up. But _so_ damn worth it. And Mackie's pub, best beer and brats in town..."

Steve lets his loaded fork rest on his still-half-full plate and picks up his napkin, wiping his mouth and pushing it all to the side. Universal sign of done. Meanwhile, his partner continues to extol in great detail the virtues of The Garden State, the East Coast, the Continental USofA, hell, anywhere but _here_. He folds his arms and leans on the table.

Eventually Danny pauses for a breath and realizes he's across the table from an angry, glaring SEAL. "Okay, what now? Now you look like it was _your_ puppy and not only was it kicked, it was dismembered and the severed head spiked on your tiki torch."

"That's sick."

"Yeah, sorry. What gives?"

"Has this last year meant nothing to you?" He can't seem to stop his hand from motioning between the two of them.

"Is this like a 2010-in-review kinda thing? Cause, really, I've lost count of the number of times I've been shot at because of you, the number of times I've almost puked because of your road rage. And maybe you can chalk that up to 'time flies when you're having fun', but most likely it's because the answer is infinity. Infinity times infinity." Danny really has no control over his hands at this point. Insert karate-chop-pointing-action here. "I do, however, remember the number of times I've had to do the paperwork." He savors his pause-for-dramatic-effect. " **All** of them."

Steve's hands are fists. Not yet fists of fury, more like extreme frustration and maximum desire for them to morph into hammers of clarity. He could really enjoy pounding Danny right now.

That. What? _Whoa._

His fists unclench and he clasps his hands together in front of his mouth, elbows resting on the table, really wishing he'd never said anything. He takes a deep breath. "Just... never mind." He picks up his glass, sips and focuses on looking anywhere _not Danny._

"Are you off your meds again? We could swing by your place real quick, pick up your SEAL-sedating cocktail. It's on the way."

"Shut up, Danno."

And blessedly, for maybe the first time ever, Danny does.

Steve counts his blessings and tries not to think much past that.

\--

Later, at Steve's... (not for meds, but beers) ...Danny seems fidgety, or at least more-so than usual, until finally it seems he can't hold it back any longer.

"My home is wherever Gracie is."

"I know that, Danny. You're an amazing Dad." He gives the compliment with truth heavy and obvious in his eyes, then focuses on the bottle resting on his knee and how it fits between his fingertips. "And Grace, she's here. _Here_ being Hawai'i."

Danny's gaze doesn't drift from his partner's face, taking in every crease of worry, every ounce of well-intentioned concern. "So am I."

Steve grins wryly and lifts his bottle. "I guess I just wonder... I want it to be... a sure thing."

"That's not really something I can promise, babe." He leans forward, elbows on knees. "And I don't think you'd want me to be that guy."

Steve nods, knowing he's right, but can't bring himself to meet Danny's eyes.

"Hey." Danny leans into his space, his direct view, placing his hand on Steve's thigh. He licks his lips and it's all Steve can do to tear his eyes away from his partner's mouth, from the heat of his palm, and actually _hear_ his words. "I'm here now."

It feels like he's been hammered with his own clarity-morphed fists. "Yeah. Yeah, you are." He hesitates only a moment before placing his hand over his partner's and leaning closer. "E pili mai," he murmurs.

Danny's lips are softer than he expects and slightly parted when he touches them with his own.

_Be here now._

\--

"Your hair smells like pineapple."

"I swear, you are obsessed with fruit." He nuzzles closer, pressing a kiss against Danny's shoulder. He smiles as his partner's chest shakes with a chuckle. "And it's coconut-mango."

"I like it."

"Just don't eat it."

"I've recently found I prefer eating other McGarrett things. Hair, not so much the top of my list."

"You have a list?"

"Shut up, Steve."

"No, really... I think that's adorable."

"Be glad you don't have a puppy."

Steve shudders. "You're a sick fuck."

"You love it."

Without even looking, he can see Danny's mischievous smile and returns it with a broad one of his own and a quiet, "Yeah, I do."

_fin._

♥


End file.
